Brecht Collected Plays: 3: Lindbergh's Flight; The Baden-Baden Lesson on Consent; He Said Yes/He Said No; The Decision; The Mother; The Exception & the ... St Joan of the Stockyards (World Classics)
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MAULER:
Very well, tell them that I’ll see them.
But tell them too that they are not to say
A single word unless I ask them first.
I want no tears or hymns
Especially no maudlin blubber. Also tell them
Their best advantage lies in
Impressing me as peaceful folk without
Prison records, who don’t want anything
Out of me that I haven’t got.
And one more thing: Don’t tell them that I’m Mauler.
The Detective goes over to Joan.
THE DETECTIVE:
He’ll see you, but you’re not
To ask him any questions, only
To answer those he asks.
Joan steps up to Mauler.
JOAN: You’re Mauler!
MAULER: No, no. Not I! (Points to Slift.) It’s him.
JOAN (pointing to Mauler): You are Mauler.
MAULER: No, it’s him.
JOAN: It’s you.
MAULER: How do you come to know me?
JOAN: Because you have the cruellest face.
Slift laughs.
MAULER: Laughing, Slift?
In the meantime Graham has run off.
MAULER (to Joan): How much do they pay you girls for a day’s work?
JOAN: Twenty cents, but we’re fed and clothed.
MAULER:
Flimsy clothing, Slift, and watery soup, I’ll wager.
Yes, undoubtedly, flimsy clothing and not much nourishment in the soup.
JOAN:
Why, Mauler, have you locked the workers out?
MAULER: (to Slift):
Isn’t it odd, their working without pay?
I’ve never heard of such a thing, people
Working for nothing and not minding it.
And in their eyes I see no fear
Of misery and destitution.
(To Joan:)
You Black Straw Hats are funny creatures.
I won’t ask what you want of me. I know
What people – the simpletons! – say of me. They call
Me ruthless, they say I’ve ruined Lennox
And driven Cridle, who between you and me
Is not the best of men, into a corner.
But these are business matters and unlikely
To interest you. There’s something else, though, which
I’d welcome your opinion about.
I’m planning to give up this bloody business
As soon as possible. Completely.
The other day – this ought to interest you –
I saw a steer being killed. I was so shaken
I’m going to drop it all. I’ve even sold
My share in the plant. Twelve million dollars worth.
I gave it to him for ten.
Don’t you
Think I did right? Don’t you approve?
SLIFT:
He saw a steer being slaughtered and resolved
To slaughter the wealthy Cridle
Instead of the poor steer.
Wasn’t that right?
The packers laugh.
MAULER:
Laugh and be damned. It doesn’t bother me.
I’ll see you crying yet.
JOAN:
Just tell me, Mr Mauler, why you’ve closed
The packing plants. I’ve got to know.
MAULER:
Doesn’t it beat all records that I’ve pulled
Out of a thriving business just because it’s cruel?
Say it was right and meets with your approval.
No, don’t say anything. I know. I admit
My act has brought misfortune on some people.
They’re out of work. I know. Unfortunately
That part could not be helped. But they’re
A lot of no-good riff-raff anyway. My
Advice is: don’t go near them. But tell me:
My pulling out of the business –
Wasn’t it right?
JOAN:
Strange question, I wonder if you’re serious.
MAULER:
That’s because my accursed voice
Is so accustomed to dissembling.
I know, it makes you
Dislike me. Don’t say anything.
(To the others:)
I feel as though a breeze from another world had touched me.
Give me your money, you hog butchers, give me your money!
(He takes money from their pockets and gives it to Joan.)
Here, girl. Take this for the poor.
But mind you, I feel no obligation.
I sleep most soundly. Why am I helping? Maybe
Because I like your face, because it’s so
Innocent, though you’ve lived for twenty years.
MARTHA (to Joan):
I wouldn’t trust that man.
Forgive me, Joan. I too am going to leave you.
Frankly, I think you too
Had better quit all this!
Martha goes out.
JOAN: This is only a drop in the bucket, Mr Mauler. Can’t you do something that will really help them?
MAULER:
Publish it far and wide, I heartily
Approve of what you’re doing, and wish there were
More like you. But you’re wrong about the poor.
They are evil. People don’t move me.
They are not guiltless. They themselves are butchers.
But enough of that.
JOAN: Mr Mauler. In the stockyards they’re saying that you’re to blame for their misery.
MAULER:
For steers I feel compassion.
Man is evil. Men are not ready for your plan.
Before the world can be changed
Man must be changed.
Just a moment.
(He speaks to Slift in an undertone.)
Get her alone and slip her some more money.
Tell her it’s for her poor, so she can take it without
Blushing, but then see what she buys herself.
And if that doesn’t work – I hope it doesn’t –
Then take her to the stockyards. Show her
Those poor of hers, how base, how bestial
They are, how cowardly and treacherous.
Get her to see that they themselves are to blame.
That ought to do it.
(To Joan:)
Sullivan Slift, my broker, has something
To show you.
(To Slift.)
You see, it’s almost more than I can bear
To know there are people like this girl
Possessing nothing but a black straw hat
And twenty cents a day, yet fearless.
Mauler goes off.
SLIFT (to Joan):
I wouldn’t want to know what you’re so keen on knowing
But if you still insist, come here tomorrow.
JOAN (looking after Mauler):
That man’s not wicked. He’s the first
Our drums have flushed from the thickets of baseness
The first to hear the call.
SLIFT (on his way out): My advice to you is to keep away from those people in the stockyards. They’re no good, if you ask me; they’re the scum of the earth.
JOAN: I want to see them.
4
THE BROKER SULLIVAN SLIFT SHOWS JOAN DARK THE BASENESS OF THE POOR: JOAN’S SECOND DESCENT INTO THE DEPTHS.
The stockyard district.
SLIFT:
Now, Joan, I’m going to show you
The baseness of these people you
Feel sorry for, and show you that
Your sympathy is misplaced.
They walk along a factory wall with big letters on it, saying: Mauler & Cridle, Meat Packers. The name of Mauler is crossed out. Two men step out of a small gate. Slift and Joan listen to their conversation.
FOREMAN (to a young fellow): Four days ago a man by th
e name of Luckerniddle fell into one of the rendering tanks. We couldn’t stop the machines fast enough and he ended up with the leaf lard; horrible. This is his jacket and this is his cap. Take them, get rid of them, they’re only using up a hook in the cloakroom and making a bad impression. My advice is to burn them, the sooner the better. I’m asking you, because I know you’re reliable. I’d be fired if they were found anywhere. Naturally, you’ll get Luckerniddle’s job as soon as the plant opens.
THE YOUNG FELLOW: You can count on me, Mr Smith. The Foreman goes back through the small gate.
THE YOUNG FELLOW: It’s a shame about that man, going out into the world in the form of leaf lard. But it’s a damn shame too about his jacket, which looks hardly worn. Old man Leaflard won’t need it any more, he’ll have his can to shelter him, but I can make good use of it. Hell, I’ll take it. He puts it on and wraps his own jacket and cap in newspaper.
JOAN (swaying): I feel sick.
SLIFT: That’s the world for you. (He stops the young fellow.) Where’d you get that jacket and that cap? They belonged to Luckerniddle, the man who had the accident.
THE YOUNG FELLOW: Oh please sir, don’t tell anybody. I’ll take them right off. I’m in a bad way. Last year the twenty cents extra they pay in the fertilizer cellars tempted me to work on the bone mill. It affected my lungs and gave me an eye inflammation that wouldn’t go away. That cut down my efficiency and I’ve hardly worked at all since February.
SLIFT: Keep them on. And come to Canteen No. 7 at lunchtime. You’ll be given a meal and a dollar if you’ll just tell Luckerniddle’s wife where you got that cap and jacket.
THE YOUNG FELLOW: But wouldn’t that be cruel, sir?
SLIFT: Well, if you’d rather go without –
THE YOUNG FELLOW: You can count on me, sir.
Joan and Slift go further on.
MRS LUCKERNIDDLE (is sitting outside the factory gate, ranting):
Hey you in there, what have you done to my husband?
Four days ago he went off to work, saying:
Keep my soup warm for me tonight. And
He hasn’t shown up yet. What have you done
To him, you butchers! Four days now I’ve been
Out here in the cold. And four nights too. Waiting
But no one says a word to me. And my husband
Doesn’t come out. But get this straight. I’m going
To stand here till I get to see him, and
God help you if you’ve hurt him.
Slift steps up to her.
SLIFT: Your husband has left town, Mrs Luckerniddle.
MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: Left town? I don’t believe it!
SLIFT: Look here, Mrs Luckerniddle, he has left town, and it’s extremely disagreeable for the plant to have you sitting here shooting off your mouth. So we’ll make you an offer, though the law doesn’t require us to. If you’ll stop making inquiries about your husband, you can eat in our canteen for three weeks free of charge.
MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: I want to know what’s happened to my husband.
SLIFT: We’ve told you. He’s gone to Frisco.
MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: He hasn’t gone to Frisco. Something has happened to him and you’re trying to hush it up.
SLIFT: If that’s how you feel about it, Mrs Luckerniddle, you can’t accept food from the plant and you’ll have to bring suit. But think it over. I’ll be at the canteen tomorrow if you want me.
Slift goes back to Joan.
MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: I’ve got to have my husband back.
He’s my only support.
JOAN:
She will never come.
Twenty meals may mean a good deal
To a hungry person, but they
Are not the whole story.
Joan and Slift walk on. They come to a factory canteen and see two men looking in through a window.
GLOOMB: That’s the foreman who’s to blame for my sticking my hand in the tin cutting machine. There he sits, stuffing his belly. Let’s make sure it’s the last time he stuffs at our expense. Better give me your blackjack. Mine looks too flimsy.
SLIFT (to Joan): Stay here. I’ll talk to him. If he comes over, tell him you’re looking for work. Then you’ll see what these people are like. (He goes over to Gloomb.) Before you let yourself be drawn into something rash, as you seem to be doing, I’d like to make you a good proposition.
GLOOMB: I’m busy right now, sir.
SLIFT: Too bad. You’d have stood to gain by it.
GLOOMB: Make it quick. We don’t want to miss the slavedriving bastard. He’s going to pay for his part in their inhuman system.
SLIFT: I’ve got a suggestion that might help you. I’m an inspector in this plant. Your place at the machine hasn’t been filled yet, and that is very inconvenient. Most of the men think it’s too dangerous, and do you know why? Because of the stink you’ve been making about your fingers. I don’t have to tell you how eager we are to find someone for the job. Now if you were to bring us somebody, we’d be glad to rehire you on the spot, in fact we’d give you an easier and better job than you had before. You might even get the foreman’s job. You look intelligent to me. And it so happens that the guy in there has been making himself unpopular lately. You get the drift. Of course we’d expect you to keep the men on their toes. But the main thing, as I’ve said before, is to find someone to man the tin cutting machine which, I admit, lacks adequate safety devices. Say, that girl over there is looking for work.
GLOOMB: Can I bank on what you’ve said?
SLIFT: Yes.
GLOOMB: The one over there? She doesn’t look strong. It’s no job for a person who tires easily. (To the other man:) I’ve thought it over; we’ll do it tomorrow night. Such jobs are best done at night. So long. (Goes up to Joan.) Looking for work?
JOAN: Yes.
GLOOMB: Eyesight okay?
JOAN: No. I worked in the fertilizer cellars last year, on the bone mill. It affected my lungs and gave me an eye inflammation that wouldn’t go away. I’ve been unemployed since February. Is it a good job?
GLOOMB: The job is good. It’s work that can be done by people like you, who aren’t very strong.
JOAN: Are you sure there’s nothing else available? I’ve heard that machine is dangerous for people who tire easily. Their hands start to shake and get caught in the blades.
GLOOMB: Lies. You’ll be amazed to see what pleasant work it is. You’ll shake your head and say: How can people tell such ridiculous stories about this machine?
Slift laughs and pulls Joan away.
JOAN: I’m almost afraid to go any further. What will I see next!
They go into the canteen and see Mrs Luckerniddle talking to the waiter.
MRS LUCKERNIDDLE (reckoning): Twenty lunches . . . then I could . . . then I’d go . . . and then I’d have . . . (She sits down at a table.)
WAITER: If you’re not eating, you’ll have to leave.
MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: I’m waiting for someone who said he’d be here today or tomorrow. What is there today?
WAITER: Lentils.
JOAN:
There she sits.
I thought she was as firm as a rock, yet feared
She’d come tomorrow. And now she’s run here quicker than we have
And there she is, waiting for us.
SLIFT: Go bring her some food. Maybe she’ll change her mind.
Joan gets some food and takes it to Mrs Luckerniddle.
JOAN: Here so soon?
MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: It’s because I haven’t had anything to eat in two days.
JOAN: But you didn’t even know we’d be here today.
MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: No, I didn’t.
JOAN: On the way here I heard someone saying your husband had an accident and the management was to blame.
MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: Oh. So you’re taking back your offer? So I don’t get my twenty meals?
JOAN: But they tell me you got along fine with your husband. And I hear you’re all alone in the world.
&n
bsp; MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: But I haven’t had anything to eat in two days.
JOAN: Couldn’t you wait until tomorrow? If you desert your husband, no one will give him another thought.
Mrs Luckerniddle is silent.
JOAN: Don’t take it.
Mrs Luckerniddle grabs the plate out of her hand and starts eating greedily.
MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: He’s gone to Frisco.
JOAN:
And the cellars and the warehouses are full of meat
And it can’t be sold and it’s spoiling
Because no one will buy it.
The Young Worker with the jacket and cap comes in at the rear.
THE WORKER: Good morning. So I can eat here?
SLIFT: Sit down with that woman over there.
The worker sits down.
SLIFT (behind him): Nice cap you’ve got there. (The worker hides it.) Where’d you get it?
THE WORKER: Bought it.
SLIFT: Where’d you buy it?
THE WORKER: I didn’t buy it in a store.
SLIFT: Where did you get it then?
THE WORKER: I got it from a man who fell into the rendering tank.
Mrs Luckerniddle feels sick. She gets up and goes out.
MRS LUCKERNIDDLE (on her way out, to the waiter): Don’t take my plate away. I’m coming back. I’ll be coming every day. You can ask the gentleman. (Goes out.)
SLIFT: For three whole weeks she’ll come here and eat like an animal without looking up. Well, Joan, now do you see that they’re base beyond measure?
JOAN:
But how you harness
Their baseness! How you exploit it!
Don’t you see how their baseness thrives on misfortune?
I’m certain that, like other women, she’d have kept
Faith with her husband as she should have
And gone on asking a little longer
About the man who gave her his support.
But the price was too high, it came to twenty meals.
And that young fellow
Who would run errands for any scoundrel
Would he have shown her the dead man’s jacket
If he had been free to choose?
But he felt the price was too high.
And what makes you think that man without a hand
Wouldn’t have warned me? If the price
Of so trifling a kindness hadn’t been too high?
Why have they sold their indignation, which was righteous but too expensive?
If their baseness is beyond measure
So is their poverty. You have shown me not
The baseness of the poor but
The poverty of the poor.